Jun 15 2017 12:01pm

L.A. Witt Excerpt: Chief’s Mess

L.A. Witt

Chief's Mess by L.A. Witt

Anthony Talbot is in Anchor Point to visit family, but after two days of strife, he needs a break. A local gay bar is calling his name.

When Chief Noah Jackson sees that red head stroll into the club, he immediately wants him. They’re perfectly matched, and before long, they’re burning up the sheets. Noah can’t get enough. Anthony can’t stay in Oregon for long, but as soon as he leaves, he’s counting down the days until he can fly back for more. And between his increasingly frequent visits, there’s always phone sex, sexting, webcams . . . anything they can get.

But Noah’s got a carefully crafted façade, and Anthony can’t help noticing the slowly forming cracks. The scent of alcohol in the middle of the day. The extra drinks at dinner. The hint of red in his eyes. Anthony knows what it means. He doesn’t want to believe it, but he’s seen this before, and there’s no denying it. If Noah doesn’t get his downward spiral under control, he’s going to lose both his career and the first man he’s ever really loved.

Get a sneak peek at L.A. Witt's Chief's Mess (available June 19, 2017) with an exclusive excerpt of a selected scene.

Finally got home, Noah texted. Be on in a minute.

I grinned like an idiot, sitting there on my bed and waiting for him to hit me up on Skype. He’d been late leaving work, which was a pretty regular occurrence. Sometimes he’d grab a shower when he first walked through the door, so I was patient.

But literally a minute after he texted me, the Skype call came through.

I accepted it of course, and my heart fluttered when he showed up on the screen.

“Hey,” he said with an adorable smile. “Sorry I was a bit late.”

“Don’t worry about it. Usual bullshit?”

He nodded, rolling his eyes, but didn’t elaborate.

I looked him up and down as much as the close-cropped frame would allow. He still had on his uniform. Well, part of it. The blue camouflage top was gone, leaving only the snug Navy blue T-shirt. I wondered if he still had on the camouflage pants. Or the boots. I wanted to imagine he had, because Christ, combat boots were hot.

“Ooh,” I said. “How have I not seen your uniform before?”

Noah laughed. “Because it’s usually the first thing that comes off when I get home. But I was running late today, so . . .” He shrugged and gestured at himself.

“You won’t hear me bitching.” I ogled him and didn’t feel the least bit of shame. “Do you wear dog tags?”

“You mean these?” Noah reached under the front of his T-shirt. When he pulled them out, the silver tags jingled on their chain, and I wasn’t at all embarrassed at how they sent my temperature soaring. So I liked guys in uniform?

“You really should wear those one of these nights,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” He let them fall on his chest, and eyed me. “So you can use them like a leash?”

I perked up. “Would you like—”

“Don’t even think about it.” He laughed. “But, hey, maybe I will wear them. I mean, they don’t do much for me, but they do add a nice ambiance when I’m on top.”

I gulped. “Meaning?”

He held them up again and shook them, and as they jingled again, my mouth watered.

“Dear God,” I croaked, my cock hardening rapidly. “Yes, you are so wearing those to bed.”

“If they make you squirm like that”—he let them drop again—“you’re damn right I am. I’ll make sure to pack them for this weekend.”

“Mmm, this weekend.” My dick got even harder from the thought of how close his visit was. “Two more days. I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I. In fact, the airline sent me one of those ‘it’s almost time for your trip’ emails today.” He rolled his eyes as he reached off screen and pulled a drink into the frame. “No shit, right? Like I’d forgotten.”

You’ve been home ten minutes and you’re already drinking? Or is that a Coke?

I laughed uneasily. “Well, you never know. I mean, how does the airline know you’re not going to visit your evil mother-in-law or taking some boring business trip?”

“I wouldn’t want to be reminded of those either.” He took a deep swallow and grimaced—yep, it was definitely booze—before putting the drink aside again. “But they really should have a box you can check that says I’m going to fuck this really hot guy—trust me, I will not forget.”

My blood heated up. Any way his flight could get bumped up? To, say, now? Or if he started driving, maybe he’d get—

I cleared my throat. “I’m sure you could mention that in one of their customer service surveys.”

“Hmm, maybe I will.” He chuckled, leaning back on his couch. His shoulder moved, and though I couldn’t tell for sure, I suspected he was adjusting himself.

I couldn’t blame him, and in fact, did the same thing. And my uneasiness about his drink—hell, that was stupid. A lot of people came home and had a drink while they were winding down. It didn’t mean they were an alcoholic like my idiot ex-brother-in-law. He was drinking, not drunk.

So I let the ridiculous worrying go, and focused on him. “I can’t wait to see you, by the way.” I grinned, and I meant it. “I can’t promise you’ll be walking when you get back to Anchor Point, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Might make it tough to do your job.”

“I’m basically a manager. I can sit at a desk if I need to.”

“Can’t promise that’ll be any easier.”

Noah shifted enough to let me know I had his attention. “Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.” I made a drawn-out show of licking my lips because I knew he loved that. “If you want to do any touristy stuff while you’re here, might I suggest we do it on Friday? Because I doubt you’ll want to do anything on Sunday.”

“I can’t think of anything I want to do besides you.”

I shivered so hard, I nearly knocked my laptop off my leg.

Noah laughed softly, as if he knew exactly how many buttons he was pushing. Still smirking, he said, “I’m curious about something.”


“Yeah.” He tilted his head. “You ever watch porn with someone?”

“Funny you should ask.”

“Oh yeah?” Noah lifted his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

“One of my favorite things in the world is . . .” Closing my eyes, I shifted again because my pants were getting increasingly uncomfortable. The thought turned me on, and I’d go off way too soon.

“Tell me.” The words came out as a delicious growl.

I forced my eyes open again. “Sitting a guy down. Putting a super-hot porno in front of him. And then blowing him while he watches it.”

“Oh.” He exhaled. “That . . . does sound hot.”

“Uh-huh. And you want to know why it’s so hot?”


“Because you’re watching two or three or however many insanely hot men doing insanely hot things.” I suppressed another shiver. “But no matter how much you want to be focused on them, you’re focused on me and what I’m doing.”

If he tried to suppress his shiver, he failed miserably. “Oh God . . .”

“You like the sound of that?”

“So fucking much.” He met my gaze through the webcam. “I’m gonna have a porno queued up and ready to go next time you’re here.”

“Or I could have one ready and waiting when you get here.”

He swallowed. “Please do.” Then he fidgeted some more. “Goddamn, I was worried I wouldn’t have the energy to do anything tonight, but . . .”

“Show me.” 

Copyright © 2017 by L.A. Witt.
Learn more about or order a copy of Chief's Mess by L.A. Witt available June 19, 2017:

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L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn't lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies.

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1. Tif
The amazon and B&N buttons link to a different book, "Boardwalk Summer".
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